“You’re eating jam. Again,” Suzen said. I swallowed and objected. “No, I’m not.” “There is an open jam jar in front of you. Your spoon is grape colored. And so is your lower lip. You obviously have a problem.” She began to leave the kitchen indignantly. “Wait,” I...

Brian and I had a mutual flashback a week ago: tomato jam. An old friend had given us a jar of his own special delicacy years ago. We never got the recipe from him and it’s not in his cookbook. So we remember Jacque Burdick fondly and we wish we could duplicate his...